


And The Crash is Heaven for a Sinner Released

by artmut12



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Fire, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artmut12/pseuds/artmut12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter clung to Stiles, holding on to the boy like a drowning man would hold on to a life raft</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Crash is Heaven for a Sinner Released

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teen Wolf drabble challenge community on Livejournal. Unbeta'd and quickly written. All mistakes are my own, and oh yeah, I don't own these lovely boys.

Peter looked out the window upon Derek and his young pack. They had started a bonfire in what was once the backyard and all gathered around it. Peter almost laughed at how picturesque it was, like one big happy family eating smores and singing kumbaya. Derek sat off by himself, holding a face of indifference, but Peter knew that he was happy. Wolves needed a family and Derek was finally rebuilding.

But Peter wasn’t so quick to move on, to forget. Even from inside the house he could feel the heat of bonfire. The heat made him remember. Memories flashed through his minds like it was happening to him right then again. He remembered the unbearable warmth of the flames as they engulfed the house and licked towards him. He remembered the smell of ash and burning wood. He remembered seeing the hands of his family reaching out to him from basement window pleading for help. He remembered running back to them, back into the blaze. Peter had fought to get to them but the fire got to him first. He remembered the feeling of his skin melting and charring as he screamed in agony on the forest floor.

“Are you alright dude?” a voice said from the door way.

It’s then that Peter realized that he was gripping the frail wood of the windowsill in his hands turned claws, with his eyes squeezed shut. He was hunched over and rigid in the thrall of his memories, memories he wanted to bury but couldn’t. Slowly he looked back to see Stiles standing there, his face a mix between surprise and something else Peter couldn’t identify.

~

Stiles walked forward cautiously as if approaching a wild animal, and to tell the truth Peter kind of looked like one right then. His eyes glowed bright blue and his face was beginning to take on more hair. His body was bowed like he was a hurt and about to strike. Stiles should have been afraid, except he wasn’t and one of these days that was going to be the death of him. The scary thing is that it wasn’t just a saying and that it could really be the death of him.

When he got a bit closer to Peter he began to understand why the big, bad former alpha had been acting so strange. He saw the orange glow of the fire dance on the dirty glass of the window. Stiles always thought of Peter as a heartless, conniving, crazy son of a bitch who savaged Scott and turned his life into this supernatural mess. While most of that was still true, heartless might not be totally accurate. Peter had lost his family in a haze of fire and anguish, and Stiles knew a little what that felt like. There were no fire or werewolf hunters in his tale but there was pain and sadness and a sense of loss so powerful it felt like it was consuming him. Stiles remembered the panic attacks he faced and thought that if he had eleven members of his family die all at once that he would have gone crazy too.

Suddenly Stiles got the urge to kiss him, and he wasn’t known for his self-control. He closed the gap between them in two big steps, grabbed the front of Peter’s shirt and crashed their lips together.

~

Peter clung to Stiles, holding on to the boy like a drowning man would hold on to a life raft. He should have been embarrassed, but as Stiles licked into him it felt like he was sucking out the fire and the heat that plagued his mind. The memories that haunted his waking eyes began to fade into the back drop as heat began to take on a new tether. It was no longer flame and death, but it was Stiles and the warmth of his skin and the wet hotness of his mouth. The great big hole in his chest felt smaller, like some small piece had come back into place. He didn’t think he could ever be the happy care free man he once was again. But with Stiles in his arms and his memories at bay it didn’t seem so hopeless anymore.


End file.
